


Pencils Intrusion - Westward?  Ha!

by MJ (mjr91)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-15
Updated: 2000-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 13:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11336796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjr91/pseuds/MJ
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Pencils Intrusion - Westward?  Ha!

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

A Pencils Intrusion - Westward? Ha! by MJ

Disclaimer: No one is responsible for this save myself. No good ideas were harmed in the writing of this story. No beta readers were injured in its production. I offer no explanation, as none is possible. Read at your own risk. You have been warned. 

* * *

A "Pencils" Intrusion -- "Westward? Ha!"  
by MJ

"What's yer name, stranger?" Horse and rider met another horse and rider along the rocky trail. The old man on the roan looked over the unfamiliar rider in black.

The tall, sturdy man looked down from his horse, reaching up to adjust his black Stetson. "Name's Skinner, friend. New to these parts."

"Figgered ye were, I've never seen ye before. Skinner, ye say? What's yer first name?" The old man examined him once again.

"I go by Skinner," the rider said quietly. "There any ranches over yonder where a man could get a drink of water?"

The old man paused, thinking. "About a mile down, bear left at the fork. Cattle ranch down there, the Mulders own it. Tina Mulder's good for a drink of water or a hot meal for passers-by. Tell her old Pendrell said to stop by; she'll fix ye right up."

The rider nodded. "Thanks, friend." He rode on past the old man, who watched him for a few moments before starting off again on his own trek towards town.

The trail to the left descended into grassy flatland. A large ranch house stood in the middle of much of it, several outbuildings and a bunkhouse surrounding it. There were gates as the rider approached, with a weather-beaten sign for the Flying M Ranch at their front. This, undoubtedly, was the ranch of which Pendrell had spoken. An attractive mature woman stood outside in a gingham dress with smocking, ordering a laundress and an Asian cook about their business. Skinner rode down to the yard.

"Morning, ma'am." He tipped the edge of his Stetson to her.

"Morning to you, sir." She nodded at him politely as she handed a man's shirt to the laundress.

"Would you be Tina Mulder?"

The woman nodded. "That's right. How can I help you?

"I'm travelling through these parts. Man named Pendrell told me you might oblige with some water."

"Why yes, of course." She pointed to a fence with a watering trough nearby. Two horses stood near. "You can tie your horse there. He probably needs some water, too. The trough's near full. Come on in. If you're hungry, we still have some of the men's breakfast left." She led him into the ranch kitchen. "Lo Sang, we've a traveller here who needs some breakfast. Some biscuits and gravy, please, and some eggs if there are any left."

"Yes, ma'am." The cook reached for a heavy plate and began filling it.

"Sit." She indicated a long table, and sat at a corner of a bench. Skinner sat across from her.

"I'm mighty obliged, ma'am." A plate of biscuits and gravy and a mug of hot coffee were set in front of him along with a tin cup of water, which he took up immediately.

"Don't worry. It's a pleasure to put people up. We don't get a lot of company out here, and it keeps us in touch with the rest of the world. And there's not too many people around here who can do it, so it's only Christian duty, after all, if we can. Now, you know who I am. Who might you be?"

"Name's Skinner."

"Skinner? Just Skinner?"

"That's right, ma'am."

"You don't use any other name?" She began to look worried.

"No, ma'am." Her jaw fell as he spoke the words.

"Do you wander across the West, stopping at ranches, working at them for a while, getting involved with the family and saving them when all hell breaks loose in the town?" she demanded.

"Happened once or twice, ma'am," Skinner acknowledged.

"You know anyone called Shane, same line of work?" she asked sharply.

"Only by reputation, ma'am. I've heard tell of him. Why?"

"Because he's the last one of you drifter hero types that stopped by here, and now all my son Fox does is make moon faces at the horizon, calling 'Come back, Shane!' It's been months. I'm not sure I want any more of you drifter hero bastards on my property any more after that."

"Sorry to hear about your problems, ma'am," Skinner said as he tucked into Lo Sang's cooking. "But I don't rightly hold with that kind of love 'em and leave 'em business myself."

A young man in a work shirt and boots strode into the kitchen from outside. "Hi, ma; I was just out riding the fences and looking for Shane." He saw Skinner. "Oh, sorry. My manners. Morning, sir."

"This is Skinner," his mother replied. He just drifted in from out of town."

The young man stared. "Skinner?" He looked Skinner over. "Skinner, huh?" He paused for a moment. "Ma, you know, I been thinkin'. I don't rightly think that Shane feller's gonna be comin' back around anyway. I think I can quit lookin' for him." He looked again at Skinner with hazel eyes that could have bored holes in rock at that moment.

Tina Mulder looked back and forth between the two. "So, son, " she said slowly and deliberately, "no more Shane?"

"Nope, ma, I reckon he's gone for good." His eyes were still on Skinner.

She looked at Skinner with an expression of overwhelming relief. "You know, Skinner, a couple of Bill's men just left, and we could sure use a hand around here. If you're not heading anywhere in particular, care to stay the season and work for us?"

Skinner mused for a moment, turning to take a good look at the son of the household. "Well, ma'am, I reckon I could use a little money."

"That's wonderful. Fox, why don't you just take Mr. Skinner out to the bunkhouse right now and get him settled in? And don't rush. You just take all the time you like." She rose, heading into the parlor. Her voice could be heard faintly, sighing "No more Shane, thank God!"

Skinner rose to shake hands with Fox. "Looks like that worked pretty good."

"Yep," Fox chuckled. "Been driving her crazy with mooning out loud after that Shane feller the past few months. Figured she'd be so happy to see me get over that she'd be happy to welcome in anybody who shut my mouth up about it."

"Dunno. I kind of like your mouth open."

"Wait 'til we get to the bunkhouse, lover. We got the whole damn day at this rate." Fox led his companion outside towards the bunkhouse. 

"So," Skinner asked, "what was going on with you and that Shane fella?"

"Nothin' much. Once out in the hayfields, that was it. He weren't anything t' speak of. But I figured if I made a big enough stink about wantin' him to come back, ma 'd be happy to have someone move in and make me drop the subject. Seems to be workin'."

"Think she'll figure out we know each other already?"

"Nah. She's too busy tryin' to keep our neighbor Spender from makin' off with sis to notice details about anything."

"Looks like we got it made, then."

"Yep."

Walter Skinner woke up to the sound of the television in a dark room. A glance at the clock showed him that it was three in the morning. He stared at the screen. "Nodded off during 'Shane' again. Damn." He nudged his lover, who was drowsing with the bowl of popcorn on his lap. "Hey, Fox. Wake up."

Mulder opened one eye. "Mmph. You know, Walt, you're better looking than Van Hefflin."

"Thank you," Skinner acknowledged. "What brings that observation on?"

"I think I was dreaming for a minute, that's all." Mulder set the bowl of popcorn on the table. The movie was drawing to a close. "Hey, Walt, here it comes!"

"Come back, Shane!" they chorused with the boy on screen.

"What a great movie," Skinner sighed as the credits rolled. "They don't make 'em like that any more."

Mulder eyed his lover sleepily. "Oh, I don't know about that, hot stuff."

"Hot stuff?"

"Yeah, hot stuff. Let's mosey on over to the bunkhouse and I'll show you what Van Hefflin was missing out on in that flick... "


End file.
